Souled
by savvyshipper
Summary: Taking place after Unsouled. Risa, Connor, and Camus have been on the run. While staying at the home of a family that's off on vacation, they decide to turn on the T.V. Nothing can prepare them for what they see. Turns out Camus isn't exactly alone in the world. ****There will be spoilers. As well as other characters making appearances****
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone, Savvyshipper with a new story. So I've read the unwind series, and after I checked it out the fandom online, I wanted to help beef it up a little. So if you've read my other fanfictions, please know I'm working on multiple projects and might not be updating every week. To new and old people, please check out my other stuff on , and feel free to review and/or PM me about anything and everything. I really enjoy feedback, and would love to know whether you would like more chapters, or more on any couples.**

**As always, you all are my inspiration for writing, and I would've given up a long time ago if it wasn't for you all,**

**~Savvyshipper**

Cam, Connor and I silently stare at the television in shock. A girl, looking to be about my age, sits down across from the Tonight Show host, Magnus Mcgilligan. She gives the audience a small shy smile out to the audience. "I'm glad to be here, Mr. Mcgilligan" she says smiling back at him. "Oh you're too kind! Please, just call me Magnus" He booms, not just to her, but to the entire audience. Her shoulders relax as she deems the host not to be a threat. I've seen how she holds herself carefully, afraid to mess up. But it's not her shyness or her "kindness" that has us transfixed. It's her skin, her eyes, her face, her everything. Connor turns to Camus. "I thought you said you were the only one" he says, his anger boiling under the surface. Don't fight, I plead in my mind. They've done so much of that over the last few days. Too much. But Camus ignores him, staring at the screen, transfixed.

Her skin tones don't meet in the center of her forehead, like Cam. Her skin tones all meet at the center of her chest, right over her heart. They've purposely made her dress low cut, to purposely show where all her skin meets and meshes together. I don't know whether to be sick or to scream. How many kids is she made of? How many teens were unwound for her to be? Her hair is braided intricately, all the shades and colors all braided together. A blonde strand is loose, tucked behind her ear. But it's her eyes that are the most terrifying, and the most interesting. They start from the middle, from light gray, to ice blue, to cerulean blue, to a bright green, blending to a hazel and chocolate around the rims. They're beautiful yet unnerving at the same time.

The host begins asking questions. She answers them with a smile, but she taps her fingers against the couch in rhythm. Guess they couldn't make a perfect model. I'm still trying to digest the fact that after Cam, they've decided to replace him with a female version. "I love your dress by the way. Was it hard to find the perfect dress?" the host purrs his eyes glinting. "It's really hard to find a dress that complements all my skin colors" she says back, flashing the audience a smile as they laugh appreciatively. "So I know this is on everyone's mind: were you made from the same people as Camus?". There's silence for a moment. This question wasn't in the original statements. The Proactive Citizenry are going to get the host for this, and we all can feel the tension. She finally puts together the answer. "They were all Unwinds, but he and I are not related by parts, or really anything. We aren't family. In fact, I've never met him" she answers. But this is not enough for the host. "So do you think you and Cam were made for each other?" He asks. Cam goes white, and Connor blanches. I can't help but feel sorry for the girl. She's almost pitiful, and though she's realized he's not a physical threat, he sure is a threat to her survival as the new spokesperson.

Her smile is gone. Anger flickers in her eyes. The host is still smiling. He's trying to get her angry. "You honestly think just-" She stops fingers touching her lips, as if to silence someone, to silence herself. "Well of course it would be nice to meet Camus. But to say we would become romantically involved without the two of us meeting is a bit forthright, don't you say?" She directs the question at Magnus, but he ignores it. "Do you have personal thoughts? And if so what are they on unwinding?" He asks, but before she can answer, he fires another one "How can you live with yourself knowing kids were-

The cameras immediately goes black. The words _technical difficulties _marches across the screen. But we know better. Magnus Mcgilligan won't be heard from. Ever again. Connor and I share a glance. His horror mirroring mine. Cam stares at the screen, seeming to be searching for some sign. He stands up abruptly, his eyes flicking through a million and one ideas all at once. "There's something, something I missing!" he mutters under his breath, pacing the length of the room and back. "There's something!" His fingers twitch nervously. His eyes snap alight, and he jerks upright. "Morse code!" He shouts gleefully. WHat? "Shut up Camus" Connor growls. He looks at Connor, mildly annoyed then back at me.

"Risa, she was talking to me through Morse Code!" He says, his voice soft and excited. "Paper! I need paper to check I'm right" Connor begins to protest, but I hush him with a look. I get the paper from a small notebook that was hidden by the mess of the home owner's house we're currently.. borrowing. He closes his eyes, letting the memory flow through as he writes strange symbols. He opens his eyes when finished, and immediately gets to translating, his pen flying across the page. Seconds later: "I've got it!" He announces proudly as Connor looks sullenly on.

He spreads the paper as neatly as he can and the words stare up at us.

**_THEY ARE CREATING MORE OF US. THEY ARE UNMERCIFUL. THEY ARE COMING. _**


	2. Chapter 2

_Roberta looks at me after she has settled herself down in the seat across from me in the armored car. Well, she calls it a limousine, leaving out the fact that the car is almost completely weaponized. She looks at me critically. She doesn't like me, I know. Even though she's so proud of herself for hiding it. She still wishes that I was Camus. But I'm not. I'm the patched together screw-up that they made the fastest to replace him. I can tell as soon as she gets Camus back, I'm going to be sent right back to lab to be unwound again.  
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_Please, Please Camus, understand. We're not going to be alone much longer. I'm not religious, I don't think any part of me was ever religious, but I'm praying that if there is a god for me, a god who would accept me, that Camus got the message. I don't know what he can do, but I'm hoping he'll at least try. He has a friend. Risa. From what I've collected, she's intelligent. Maybe she will have a plan._

_"I thought you said you had him under control Elise" Roberta says sternly. "I do" I say, a little too quickly. She raises a perfectly raised brow. "Then why did you lose control? On live television no less" she continues, pretending that I didn't just say something. "I'm sorry" I say. "But Mcgilligan went off script, and I didn't know what to do". "You let him take control of you" she answered evenly. "Didn't we discuss what would happen if you kept letting him take the reins?" Roberta says, in the fake-sweet kind of voice that makes me want to throw up. He stays scarily silent though. No response. I don't know whether I want to know what that means for me later. "I get erased" I say, trying to not sound as terrified as I feel. "That's right" Roberta says approvingly. The rest of the car ride is silent._

_I do deep-breathing exercises, trying to keep calm. I need to get to my bedroom, to be alone. I can feel him growing more and more restless inside me. But sensing my discomfort, Roberta follows me through the myriad of halls to my room. She's being overly cautious, partly because she's been in deep trouble ever since she lost Camus, and partly because she hates me, so anything she can do to make me uncomfortable is her greatest pleasure. Please, please go away. I don't want her anywhere near me. I open the door, and try to shut it quickly behind me, but she catches it with her foot. She looks at me in mock surprise."What, not going to let me in?". I stiffen. She raises her eyebrows. "You can either let me in quietly. Or we can can have an argument, and I will win, and you still let me in". I open my mouth, hoping to find a snappy comeback provided to me. Nothing. I glare at her. But I reopen the door and let her in. She has the keys anyway. A month ago, I locked the door and shoved all the furniture against the door. An hour later, the beoufs had busted down the door, weapons at the ready. I haven't tried since._

_She stands there, tapping her foot impatiently. I unzip the back of my dress, exposing my skin to her. Her gaze is critical as she critiques my midsection. The new and old bruises stand out against my varied skin tones. "So I see you still have some work to do" She comments drily. But her eyes glitter, she enjoys herself. Sometimes I don't know who Roberta's rooting for. "See you tomorrow then" She says, shutting the door behind her.  
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_"Liar. You know exactly who she's rooting for" he says, and I can almost hear the mocking in his voice. "Shut up" I think back at him. "What, you're going to make me? How can you, when I'm in your head?" He questions, and I can feel his anger, and mine rising in response. "Get out of my head!" I scream at him. "No one wants you here!". I double over in pain as the breath is knocked out of me. I can't breathe I can't breath oh please no-_ **doors slam as the shadow of a father screams "No one wanted you" at his son and the boy can't help it he's tried and tried but he is never, never good enough. The next memory flashes through, and the boy is strapped to the table, but I'm strapped to it too. I am the boy and they're unwinding me and oh god- **_I collapse to the ground, vision going dark._

No one else wants her either. I won't say it to her, because it's true. Even Psycho-Nanny hates her, and I'm pretty sure her life depends on Elise doing a good job. Her physical body curls up into a ball on the floor, and her consciousness does the same. I can feel the others-the other kids fighting to break free from her. They're the bruises. I let her blame me because it'd probably be worse if she knew that they can tell that they're not a part of her, and that they want out. The girls dealing with enough already. I almost feels bad for her. But I don't. Not at all. Last time I tried to help someone I cared about, I ended here, unwound and stuck inside Female Frankenstein. Am I over that? Eh, how about NO. She could handle it. She'll be fine. She always had been before. But what if she isn't? Damn it.

I reach out to the very wall of her consciousness. I exhale, then press my hand into the wall surrounding her instantly retracts, and Elise is standing in front of me, her eyes red."What?" she asks tiredly, her lips trembling. I feel something twinge in my chest, and I think she does too because she looks at me nervously. "I'm not sorry" I say. "I was just making sure you were okay. I mean, we're in the same body, so might as well look out for it." Ugh. Even I'm trying not to gag at how bad I sound. "Whatever. Just forget it. Glad you're alive, that's all". I turn to leave. "Wait" she reaches out, grabbing my wrist. I turn back towards her. "What?" I ask annoyed. She looks at me desperately. "Do you mean it?" she asks, a slight tremor in her voice. I look down at her. "Sure" I say. Elise slips her arms around me, and pulls me into a hug. I realize that this is the first time she's been told by someone that they're glad that she's alive. She's shaking, but I think she's happy. "Thank you" she whispers. "Thank you, Roland"


End file.
